


Lily and Poppy.

by jhsdhalr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhsdhalr/pseuds/jhsdhalr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock acquire two kittens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lily and Poppy.

Prologue. Arrival.

When John came home from the Clinic one Friday evening he discovered a small box lying in front of the door. Naturally he looked inside, very carefully, just in case. It seemed safe enough so he opened the box and looked in and there, fast asleep on a small red blanket, were two very sweet black and white kittens. John opened the door and carried the kittens inside. 

Upstairs, Sherlock was reclining on the sofa still wearing his pajamas. As John put the box on the table he sat up and started to complain. "I've had a seriously boring day" he moaned "and you come in with a box and don't even ask me what I've been doing."

"It's perfectly obvious what you've been doing" John answered as he removed his jacket "nothing, unless you count sulking."

"I DO NOT SULK" Sherlock shouted, pouting "and what's in the box?"

"Kittens" said John, opening the box as he spoke "I found them on the step outside." There was a note in with the kittens. John read it and smiled. He studied the kittens. They were, he guessed about 8 weeks old.

"KITTENS!" shouted Sherlock, ignoring John's smile completely "what on earth are we supposed to do with kittens?"

John was holding both kittens in his arms. They were just starting to awake and looked incredibly sweet. John put them down on the floor to explore and one of them promptly squatted and peed on the rug. The other one then did the same. Sherlock was incensed.

"Look at that" he groaned "that's ruined now."

"They're babies" said John "we need a litter tray and litter and food and somewhere for them to sleep."

"We're not keeping them" said Sherlock "we can just take them to the RSPCA."

"There's a note" John explained "I found it in the box. It says we're to look after them. It names us personally. It says Dear Sherlock and John. Please look after these unwanted kittens. Love anonymous."

Sherlock put his head in his hands and groaned again. He had already learned that John was very difficult to manipulate. Once John really made up his mind about something he could be incredibly stubborn. The kittens were obviously there to stay, for a while at least. He wondered who anonymous was. He would have to investigate.

One. Settling in.

John left Sherlock alone with the kittens, rather reluctantly, and went to buy supplies for them. Sherlock, his head bursting with numerous boring facts about what to do and what not to do with kittens, sat on the sofa and sulked and then decided to clean the rug of pee, still sulking. The kittens explored and found there were a lot of great things to pull and sniff and play with. They were ecstatically happy.

When John returned with all the stuff he deemed necessary for two kittens well being, Sherlock was still sulking on the sofa and the kittens were nowhere to be seen. "Where are they? he asked. 

"Where are who?" asked Sherlock, irritatingly.

"Lily and Poppy, of course" said John.

Sherlock looked shocked. "You've NAMED them?" he exclaimed.

"Harry and I had cats when we were children" said John calmly "they were called Lily and Poppy. Poppy was mine. Anyway, where are they? What have you done with them?"

"I haven't done anything with them" said Sherlock "I was just cleaning the rug and they went into the kitchen with me. I think they're still in there."

"Anything could happen to them in there" John complained. He went into the kitchen and found the kittens were quite safe. One of them was under the kitchen table playing with a piece of string and the other was rolling on the floor playing with what proved to be a strip of streaky bacon. Luckily she didn't seem to have eaten any of it. John brought them back into the living room and put them on the sofa next to Sherlock, who looked horrified. "That one" John said, "with the four white paws is Poppy, she's mine. The other one with only three white paws is Lily, she's yours." He picked Lily up and plopped her down on Sherlock's right knee. She looked up at him and purred loudly. "Hold her" John instructed.

Sherlock sighed and picked Lily up very carefully. He held her gingerly. She just fitted on the palm of his hand. She had blue eyes. She looked up at him and purred. I'm letting John walk all over me, he thought, I should just put my foot down and tell him these kittens are going to the RSPCA whatever the note says. Lily had a very loud purr for something so tiny. He actually found the purr was quite soothing. It was weird. 

"Talk to her" said John "tell her you're going to feed her. I bought kitten food." He talked nonsense to Poppy for a moment and then put her down next to Sherlock and went to get the food. Poppy climbed on Sherlock's left leg and then began the perilous journey up his body toward his shoulder. Sherlock put Lily down on his other leg and plucked Poppy from his chest with some difficulty, as she was clinging on grimly, like a small furry mountaineer. 

Luckily John came back then with two small bowls filled with what looked, to Sherlock anyhow, like pinkish colored sludge. He put the bowls down on a plastic mat, with the words "I love cats" written on it, and placed the kittens by the bowls. They began to eat right away. John looked very pleased with himself. "There" he said "isn't that great, they like it."

"It looks disgusting" said Sherlock.

"Talking of disgusting" John replied "what's that revolting green stuff in the fridge?"

"It's not green' said Sherlock "it's brown. It's an experiment."

"It's definitely green now" John informed him.

Sherlock jumped to his feet and rushed into the kitchen. The next moment he gave an anguished shout. "That's not supposed to happen" he cried "why is it green?"

"How should I know?" John muttered "all I know is it's disgusting."

"Hours of work wasted" Sherlock moaned, returning to the living room and flopping back onto the sofa. 

John took the kittens into the kitchen to introduce them to the litter tray. Sherlock got up and decided to play his Violin. As soon as he started the kittens began to cry loudly. Sherlock played louder. The kittens ran into the living room and stood by his feet meowing loudly in apparent despair. Sherlock threw his violin down on the sofa, stamped off to his bedroom and slammed the door. 

John bent down by the kittens and stroked their heads. "Good Kitties" he said, laughing.

Two. Winning over Sherlock.

After two weeks of feeding and playing with Lily and Poppy John was in love with them both. Even cleaning the litter tray didn't bother him. They were delightful and when he came home from work he would get down on the floor and play with them, throwing things for them to chase. He was already planning when to get them spayed and looking for a cattery for them in case he and Sherlock had to go somewhere for a trip or a case.

After two weeks of Lily and Poppy Sherlock was desperate. How could he get John away from the kittens? It was all "I can't come with you just now, Sherlock, what about Poppy and Lily?" Once upon a time he had savored being alone on cases, now he wished he had company, not any old company though, John's company. It was maddening and frustrating. Even worse was the fact that his investigations into the kittens origins had lead nowhere. No-one knew anything and no-one had seen anything, or if they had, they weren't telling.

Another problem was Lily actually seemed to like him. When he sat down she would magically appear and climb on him. As soon as she could manage it she started to jump up on his knees, purring loudly and rubbing her head on his legs in apparent ecstasy. He didn't know what to do when she did that so he would stroke her head and then her back and paws. This didn't help at all since it merely made her roll about on his legs, suffused with pleasure, only to fall asleep moments later on her back with her four little legs stuck up in the air. John took photos. Sherlock was immortalized with Lily sleeping on him. It was absolutely mortifying. What was even worse was he found he was starting to enjoy stroking her and throwing things for her to chase. It was very disturbing.

"Cats think they own us" said John, one evening, when they had had the kittens for about three weeks "they don't think we own them. Lily probably thinks you're her human."

Sherlock was irritated. They were having yet another boring evening in with their pets. He didn't have a case and he was bored and he had a kitten lying asleep on his right leg. His life was over. He was too young for life to end in such a mundane way. "How do you decide these things?" he asked John crossly, absentmindedly rubbing Lily's chest as he spoke and watching the way her front paws curled up as he did so.

"It's a well known fact" John said "that's been proved over and over again."

Sherlock rubbed a finger over Lily's right front paw and watched it flex. "It sounds like rubbish to me" he muttered.

"Well she's got you under her thumb alright" said John and laughed.

As if to prove the truth of this statement at that very moment Lily woke up, stretched, jumped off Sherlock's leg, and went into the kitchen. Sherlock got up immediately and followed her.

"Where are you going?" John shouted after him, letting Poppy climb onto his shoulder and hang there.

"It's nearly time for their supper" Sherlock shouted back.

John laughed and whispered in Poppy's ear "your sister is a clever little kittie and so are you." Poppy purred.

In the kitchen Sherlock opened a can of kitten food and divided it up into Poppy and Lily's bowls, which were now engraved with their names. Lily ate some from her own bowl and then some from Poppy's bowl. He bent down and stroked her as she ate muttering "that's it, you eat it all up, good girl" as he did so. He was quite unaware of what he was saying, which was probably just as well.

"Perhaps we could get Mrs. Hudson to cat sit" John suggested, coming into the kitchen carrying Poppy. He put her down by her bowl. She started to eat.

Sherlock was suitably horrified by the very idea. "Mrs Hudson isn't fit to look after my Lily" he said firmly "if anyone's going to mind her and be bored to death it's going to be me, or you."

John laughed. "D'you know what you just said?" he asked "you said my Lily."

Sherlock was about to deny it when he heard his voice coming back to him, echoing in his ears. He groaned and went back to his beloved sofa, followed by Lily herself. As he sat down she jumped upon his knee and kneaded his leg, purring happily. "I'm caught" Sherlock said, as John sat down next to him holding Poppy "aren't I?"

"I think so" said John, grinning.

Sherlock gave a large sigh and started to rub Lily's chest. "You" he said to her "are a little minx, aren't you?" He looked at John and suddenly grinned back at him. "You should have told me cats flirt" he said.

"You wouldn't have believed me "John answered and laughed. Sherlock laughed too. Lily and Poppy purred.

The End.


End file.
